


When It's Just Us

by welseykels



Series: Dragon Age: Emmalee Trevelyan [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Changed OC, Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Reference to what may have happened in Alexius' Bad Future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 04:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3796489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/welseykels/pseuds/welseykels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>'Can you imagine? The formidable Herald of Andraste who survived the Fade, simultaneously faced down an ancient magister, his archdemon, and who seemingly came back from the dead, terrified to ask one four worded question.'</i> </p><p>Cullen realizes that the Herald of Andraste has feelings for him after a certain Tevinter Mage reveals some of her secrets.  Set as the search party sees Emmalee Trevelyan returning on the mountain after the evacuation of Haven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When It's Just Us

**Author's Note:**

> [Check out my writing masterpage on tumblr!](https://welseykels.tumblr.com/writing)

“There! It’s her!”

His voice was salvation.

She had trekked for Maker knew how long across the Frostbacks, following the ghost of the Commander’s flare, signalling that all that could be saved from Haven had been evacuated.

She never thought she would hear his voice again.  Never see a smile cross his face when she said something meant to make him laugh.  Never see him swiftly look away whenever she glanced up at him across the war table, rubbing his neck in embarrassment.  She thought she was going to die out on the mountain, never to see the man she cared for again.

Everything hurt.  Breathing hurt.  Moving hurt.  She couldn’t feel the fingers in her right hand anymore, cursing the gloves she wore that left her fingers exposed.  But she had to keep going, pushing her way through the snow.

She’d wondered at first if she’d just imagined him speaking as her legs gave out.  A last trick her mind would play on her before she died.  But then, his mantle pressed in close around her face, the fabric of his cloak wrapping around her frozen body.  She sighed his name and knew she was safe.  His strong arms wrapping around her, the pressure of his body made her ribs feel as if they’d been set on fire with pain, but it didn’t matter anymore.  She’d made it back.  She nuzzled her frozen nose into the crook of his neck, trying not to focus on the pain swimming through her body.  If she made it past this, she’d tell him.  Maker, she’d let him know that the thought of returning to him had been the only thing that had kept her going in the snow.

* * *

 

“Cullen.”

It was the first time she had ever used his given name.  

 _Cullen._  Not Commander.  Not Templar.  Just Cullen.

It was the first time she had ever used his given name and she was barely conscious.

His eyes had been scanning - no - desperately searching the horizon as he climbed the mountain with Cassandra and the scouts.  She had to be somewhere.  She had to be.  Maker, please let her be alive.  She couldn’t be dead.  She had survived a trip through the Fade, for Andraste's sake.  She had survived so many things. She had to have survived this.

_She would return to him._

Immediately, he scolded himself for the foolish thought.  She wasn’t his, he didn’t even know how she felt about him.  He had been a Templar, she was a mage, how could she ever trust him?  But Maker, how his heart already belonged to her.  If she came back, Andraste preserve him, he'd tell her how he felt, even if it meant rejection.

And then he saw her.  

She was bloody, her clothing covered in dark red splotches.  Maker, he prayed that the blood wasn’t all hers.  She looked so small at the top of the mountain, frail and broken.  He ran, closing the distance between them as he saw her fall to her knees.  She'd said his name as he reached her, wrapping her in the heavy fur of his mantle and cloak, her hands digging into the coarse hairs for warmth.

She groaned in pain as he lifted her off the snowy ground, but settled her face in the crook of his chin, snuggling her nose into the space beside his pulse with a soft hum of relief.

Maker, how he'd dreamt of her face there before.  And now to finally have it happen, under circumstances that he did not want, when she was frozen and broken and barely coherent… he could barely suppress the rage at himself for asking her to stay as a distraction, even if she had insisted to do so herself.  He would not allow her to stay behind again.   _Ever._

“We need to get her to the healers, Commander.  Now.”

Cassandra’s voice pulled him back to where he was standing, knee deep in snow, with the Herald in his arms.  He turned and the group made the descent as fast as they could down the mountain, a few of the scouts running ahead of them so that the healers were ready for their arrival.

He prayed that they could save her.

When they reached the bottom, a trio waited for them just outside the infirmary tent.  One a herbalist, two spirit healers.  Maker, he had never been more thankful than in this moment that she had chosen to offer the mages an alliance.  He shuddered to think about what the Templars could have done for her broken body.  

He felt his stomach drop as he released her onto the cot in the tent.  There was nothing more he could do for her now.  Her fate was in the Maker’s hands.

A whispered prayer escaped his lips, begging for her to be saved.

* * *

 

"She cares about you, you know."

Cullen pulled his gaze away from where the healers were tending to Emmalee to see the Tevinter mage sauntering over towards him where he sat by the fire at the centre of camp.

"She's the Herald, of course she cares about the members of the Inquisition."

"Tut tut. Don't let her catch you calling her that, she loathes when she’s called the Herald.” Dorian sat down on the bench beside him.   “But it's different than that.  She cares about you specifically." And then a small pause. "Maker, I think she might even love you."

Cullen choked on the air.

"W-what?"

The mage laughed then, seeming to enjoy the warrior's surprise. He continued for a moment, but then his face sobered and his voice grew quiet.  "She didn't tell you what happened when we were sent to the future, did she?"

"I read her report. A demon army, the empress murdered-"

"Cullen, I meant what happened to her, not the rest of the world."

Cullen let out a shaky breath, his gut clenching.  "No."

"No, I suppose she wouldn't have."  Dorian looked to where Cullen's gaze had drifted back over to where Emmalee laid unconscious.  "She'll be fine. She's tough. If anyone can cross a mountain with several broken bones, internal bleeding, and a concussion, and still live, it's her."

The reminder of all her injuries did nothing to calm Cullen's worry.

"Leliana was there."

"What?"

"Leliana was at Redcliffe castle when we arrived one year ahead. She'd been tortured for Maker knows how long, but she hadn't been confined to cells like Varric and Cassandra had been for the year. At least not for the beginning of it all.  Leliana knew about things that had happened in the year all across Thedas. That's how we knew about the empress and the demon army."

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"Two reasons really. One, try to help you keep your mind off of the fact that the woman, whom I suspect you love, is being prodded at by three healers." Cullen opened his mouth to protest, but Dorian raised a hand to stop him, a twinkle in his eyes. "And two, because for me to get to the good part of this story, you needed some background."

The commander grumbled.  He was in no mood for the mage's humour.

"Trust me, you'll be interested in where this is all headed. As much as I like to hear my own voice, I wouldn’t waste both our time on something neither of us cared about." He paused to look over at Emmalee, his brow furrowing as she cried out in pain. "As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me. I was badgering Leliana with all sorts of questions about the state of the world. She would half answer some and simply refuse others. But Emma, she stayed silent for the journey, looking like there was something important she wanted to ask by the way she kept opening her mouth to speak, but then closing it again once she lost her courage to ask. I wondered what kind of question it was that she was simultaneously dying for an answer, but knew she would regret asking the moment it left her lips. I figured it must have been a family member or a loved one or something.  I was right, in the end."

She had asked about someone?  Out of all the things she could have learned about The Elder One’s plans, and she had asked about someone else?  They must be very important to her and Cullen wondered who it was.

The Mage shuffled closer, holding out his hands to warm them on the fire, his voice growing conspiratorially low.  

"It was only right before we activated the door to confront Alexius that she had finally plucked up enough courage to ask. Can you imagine? The formidable _Herald of Andraste_ who survived the Fade, simultaneously faced down an ancient magister, his an archdemon, and seemingly came back from the dead, terrified to ask one four worded question."

Cullen's attention turned back to the healer's tent when he heard her moan again in pain. He moved to stand, but Dorian’s hand pulled him back down.

“There’s nothing you can do for her that the healer’s aren’t already doing.  They need their space to do their work.”

Cullen let out another shaky breath, knowing the mage was right.  He would only hinder when he meant to help.  They sat in silence for a moment, before Cullen was able to focus enough on their conversation again to ask.

"What was the question?"

"I'd barely heard her ask it. She had been facing the door you see, her hand hovering over the lyrium lock, her back facing all of us. I think Cassandra and Varric were too far to hear, but then again, I'm the only one who knows anyways, the only one who came back with her. That version of them disappeared when we reversed the time magic.”  He laughed.  “Emma will probably kill me herself if she finds out I’ve told someone.  You, especially."

"Look, if you're not going to tell me, I'd prefer to be left alone-"

"'What happened to Cullen.'"

"What?"

"That's what she asked.  ‘What happened to Cullen’."

Cullen's eyes flew to Dorian's face. There was no mischievous glint in his eye to tell Cullen if the mage was joking. Out of all the things she could have asked about her family, the Inquisition, friends, she had asked about him?

"Don't look so surprised. I've caught the way you two look at each other when you think the other one isn't looking. And you certainly can’t say that you’re the only one in the whole of the Inquisition who hasn’t noticed that you’re the first person she seeks out whenever we return from missions from Maker knows where.  Those were her words, I swear it. And you know what, as reluctant to answer my questions as she was, Leliana answered Emma's without hesitation. I think she knew too that Emma wouldn't have asked if it wasn't the most important thing for her to know."

He swallowed, hard.  "And what did Leliana say?"

"I didn't catch it all, something about you dying heroically in some battle against the Elder One.  I was more interested in watching Emma’s reaction. You know, after all she's been through, I'd never seen her more terrified than in that moment. Her eyes glistened for a minute or two, all the time she'd allow herself to grieve for you I suppose, before letting her face melt back to that strangely cool look she gets when she's fighting, I think you know the one. I would hate to be on the wrong side of that face. The nonchalance of it makes her seem just that more terrifying and I think that's the point of it.  I was honestly more scared for Alexius than I was for her."

Cullen opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't find any words to articulate what he felt.  Emmalee had asked about him and only him? She had worried about what had become of him in the now, hopefully, alternate future. Did she care for him?  His heart pounded at the thought, it seemed more possible now than it had a few short minutes ago.  But love? How could Dorian be so sure that she loved him? He had been a Templar and she was a mage. Surely, fate wouldn't be that cruel to him again.

It was as if the mage had read his thoughts.  “Now there’s one for the story books, eh?  An ex-Templar and a mage, how very poetic.  If Varric has any sense at all, his next book will be based on the two of you.”

The healers started to wander over to Cassandra and Cullen wanted nothing more than to rush over to find out what they were telling her or to go see Emmalee himself.  Would she make it?  Was she alright?  Surely she must be alright.

Dorian laid a hand on his shoulder as the mage went to stand.  “I’ll find out what they’re telling Cassandra.  You go over to Emma.”  Again, Cullen wondered if Dorian could read minds like that strange boy named Cole.

“I - thank you.”

It took all his restraint to not run across the camp to where she laid on a cot.  Her hair was splayed across the pillow, surrounding her face like a raven halo.  He pulled a stool beside the cot and sat, searching her features for any signs that she was still in danger.  She whimpered in her sleep, and before Cullen had even realized he done it, his hand was grasping hers.  Her fingers were freezing, even through his leather glove he could feel them.  Her whimpering calmed and the crease in her brow slowly melted away.  

He didn’t know how long he sat there, watching the crease return time and time again, and fading away as his thumb rubbed circles across the back of her hand.

He wondered what she was seeing as she dreamt in the Fade.  Was she recalling her cold and lonely walk across the mountain?  Facing the Elder One and his archdemon? Or something far worse?  Cullen knew all about nightmares.  Knew what toll they could take on a person.

He felt helpless.  He looked over to see where Cassandra and Dorian were still talking with the healers.  Cassandra looked angry, but then again, he couldn’t remember any other emotion on her face since they first spotted the Templar army over the mountains.  Dorian looked more relaxed, even smirked when he caught Cullen’s eye, seeing where Cullen’s hand was still gripped around hers.

He heard a grunt coming from beside him as she saw Dorian’s eyebrows raise.  Cullen’s attention snapped back to the woman beside him.  Her eyes were slowly fluttering open as she lifted her head, a smile creeping across her face when she focused on him.

“Commander?”

 _Commander, not Cullen._  Was Dorian sure?

“Herald.”  She wrinkled her nose at the name.

“ _Emmalee._  I am not the Herald.”  

“Alright, Emmalee.”  He paused, considering if he should say what he wanted to, finding that Dorian’s words had given him a swell of courage.  “If I am to do that, then there will be no more of this Commander business, not when it’s just us.”

“Alright.. Cullen,” His heart beat erratically in his chest at the sound of his name falling again from her lips. And then with a weak smile she added, “when it’s just us.”

She looked down to where his gloved hand was still wrapped around hers.  He could feel the heat of a blush spreading across his face and he could see one spreading across hers as well.  He went to move his hand away, but she only gripped her hand tighter around his.

“Please don’t go, Cullen.”

Her face had tried to remain neutral, but he could hear the pleading in her voice.  Maybe Dorian was right.  Maybe there was something between them.   _I think she might even love you._  He felt the blush creep down his neck at the thought.

“Of course, Emmalee.  I won’t leave you.”


End file.
